Thoughts of a Widow
by EclipsedDevil13
Summary: It's been a year since the alien's failed invasion of New York. Nothing has been the same, especially not our heroes. A certain Hawk in particular is beginning to worry the infamous Back Widow. One-Shot, hints at BlackHawk. Edited by DanniWolf27


It had been a year since the Chitauri's failed invasion of New York. My team, the Avengers, had all gone their separate ways. It almost made me sad, working together, fighting together, it felt like Clint and I had finally found the kind of family where we fit in.

Steve hadn't left New York; he was still trying to get use to this new modern age. Someone-either Tony or Fury- had introduced him to Motorcycles so he usually spent his time between fixing up old bikes and at the gym. I think working out gave him what it gives all of us, the ability to get out of your head and stop the pain in our hearts.

Stark went back to California, switching from working in his company and trying to make his new relationship work. I, admittedly, was a little proud that my influence had nudged the couple in the right direction. True enough, no one could ever call me feminine but what Stark and his secretary had was cute. They were right together.

Bruce was...gone. Tony claimed to be in communication with him but no one else had heard from him since he left with Tony. I was a little worried about the funny little scientist. Besides having the hulk inside him –who actually could be rational at times- Banner really was a good guy. I hoped wherever he was, he was okay.

Thor was back home. Thor was by far the strangest man I had ever come across in my line of work. Maybe it was because he was a god? He was also clearly arrogant. I think that's why he was banished here before the invasion. No one never really gave me the full story on that, I'd ask Fury but there was roughly the same chance of him giving me the entire truth as Clint giving up archery.

Accompanying Thor on his trip home was the sick twisted fuck – I meant Loki.

I do not actually hate many people, despite my line of work. There were people who were my friends, like Clint. There were people I worked with and against, like most of S.H.E.I.L.D. and then there were the people I hated, like Loki.

I hated him for every horrible thing he made Clint do.

I hated what the trickster had turned Clint in to.

Sure, I tried to pretend that the damage hadn't been irreversible. I tried pretending that one day I would wake up and the man I once knew would be back. It was stupid, to hope. I am not a child; I haven't been for quite a while. It couldn't be helped I guess.

Sometimes we want things we know we can't have, but those things aren't necessarily for us.

That's why it hurts so much that we can't have them.

However, I know better now.

By now I had figured out that the Clint I knew wasn't coming back.

Clint was a different man now. I had to accept that.

He was quieter, more reserved then before. Sometimes I caught him wearing the same dark sunglasses he had worn when we sent Loki back to Asgard.

I was too afraid to see what was hidden behind them -unnaturally blue eyes? - So I didn't ask.

I wouldn't even know what I would do if those shades happened to fall off and I saw something besides his greys.

What would anyone do if their partner, their past friend, was no longer in control? It was like a drug addict, except there was no rehab to be sent to.

No amount of self control could fix it.

Then there were the times he spent practically days at the shooting range or his shop. No one else had the understanding of archery that he did so he was the one to make his trick arrows.

Clint had spent so much time there, loud music blasting through the speakers, that even Fury seemed worried. I knew he wouldn't say anything though.

Clint was a big boy, if he needed help he would seek it out.

That's what Fury would say, if anyone ever asked about the archer. It frustrated me beyond belief. Did no one get him like I did?

This WAS his way of asking for help!

I just didn't know how to do it. Did anyone?

Once, when I had gone inside to remind him he had to eat, and just so happened to sneak a peek at his iPod screen.

It was playing a playlist called "him."

There were a lot of things different about Clint now since becoming free of the trickster god. I could tell if they weren't positively affecting him and I wondered constantly if I was the only one to notice them. I tried to ignore it and hope.

Hope that the man I had fallen desperately in love with wasn't broken beyond repair.


End file.
